


side to side

by bukkunkun



Series: drop the b [3]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barebacking, Beard Burn, Beards (Facial Hair), Bruises, Comedy, Denial of Feelings, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mild Kink, Painplay, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Stubble Burn, The Treadmill Incident™, i honestly don't know how to describe the kink in this one, oh boy lots of pining, oh yeah we're in the thick of it pals, or as I like to call it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 16:31:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19872643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: Jake asks Tom if he wants to work out.It's that simple, but it's not without its hiccups and giggles.





	side to side

**Author's Note:**

> > honestly? I don’t know why the jaketoms haven’t monopolised on the treadmill incident yet.  
>    
>  (that means new jaketom coming soon)
>> 
>> — 🔮 bukkun, MSc 🕷 FFH SPOILERS (@trickscd) [July 15, 2019](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/1150572066367688704?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> surprise bitch. im back
> 
> i got sick but i wrote this while i was bedridden anyway. please don't do that 
> 
> also, yeah, i heard about recent developments. no, i don't care about canon. it hasn't stopped me then, what makes you think it'll stop me now. i'm very, very happy for tommy though. it feels like watching your son grow up... ahh.... congrats my sweet baby...

“Hey, Tom, wanna work out?”

The bedroom was cool and comfortable around their naked bodies, and Tom grunted into the pillow as Jake sat up, jostling him to full awareness. The younger man grasped at him blindly, his hand curling around the waistband of Jake’s underwear, and he laughed, gently prying Tom’s hand away from him to get up. He ruffled Tom’s hair and the brunet finally turned his head to peer at him with squinted, pissed-off eyes, and Jake offered him a kind smile. 

“Didn’t we _just_ work out?” He mumbled, gesturing at the tangle of sheets around them, evidence of their lazy morning sex. “You’re saying you want _more?_ ”

“I’m not insatiable like you are, Princess.” Jake snorted, and Tom kicked at him lazily under the comforters. His foot got trapped in the soft white cloth, and he groaned in protest. Jake laughed softly, leaning down to kiss Tom’s temple and Tom blinked at him blearily from the pillows. “I meant a legitimate workout. Let’s hit the gym.”

“We have press later today.” Tom whined, and Jake shook his head, patting Tom’s back before he easily picked him up, laughing at the sound of Tom’s defeated sigh as he let Jake carry him to the bathroom. 

“I promise I’ll have you back in time for your beauty rest, you big baby.” He said, and Tom snorted into the crook of his neck. “C’mon, clean yourself up, I’m not doing that for you.”

“I’ll go to the gym with you if you clean me up yourself.” Tom hummed, giving Jake a lazy grin, and the older man set Tom down onto his feet in the shower stall. 

“My apartment, my rules.” Jake grinned at him, and Tom crossed his arms, meeting his grin halfway as he leaned against the wall of the shower stall, unmindful of the cold tiles. 

“Your gym partner, my demands.” Tom replied, and Jake shook his head, laughing helplessly as he crowded Tom in the shower stall, pressing him against the wall and caging him in with his bigger—oh, _much_ bigger—body, pressing their foreheads together. He relished the way Tom shivered at the proximity, like as if they haven’t been friends with benefits since they first shot _Far From Home_ together in Venice. 

Now that Jake thought about it, every time they had sex, Tom was like this—wide-eyed and amazed like he was being kissed and touched for the first time ever, like as if Jake’s hands on him was always such a new, exciting experience. Jake came to learn Tom’s body from the inside out, but _god_ it always felt like the first time whenever their lips touched, their hands wandered. Now, he always looked forward to kissing Tom, to fucking him—god, they’d have to start talking about some of the even crazier shit he’d wanted to try, but did that frighten him like _crazy_ thinking about how that conversation would go. 

Sometimes, Jake would lie awake at night, watching Tom sleep, feeling the way his even breaths soothed him as the younger man cuddled against his arm. Those times—those times when he saw Tom at his most vulnerable, that was when _Jake_ felt especially vulnerable, overcome with that irrational fear of chasing Tom away the way he did with his other lovers. 

Huh.

Rephrase that, Gyllenhaal. 

“Do we have a deal?” Tom asked, and oh. Jake was back in the moment, where he was crowding Tom into the wall, and Jake gave him an easygoing shrug. 

“Fine.” He hummed, kissing Tom slowly, and Tom smiled into their kiss as he pulled Jake closer. The older man laughed into their kiss. “You’re already half hard.”

“And you’re still in your underwear.” Tom murmured back. “Take them off, big guy.”

Jake couldn’t help but burst out laughing. God, this kid was so god damn endearing. Jake didn’t know _why_ he liked Tom so much—they were friends, duh, that was the whole damn point—but Jake was pretty sure this level of affection went way beyond what was normal for friends with benefits. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m getting to it,” He said, and he stripped down, tossing his underwear out the shower stall over his shoulder as Tom turned to shower on, humming pleasantly. Warm water washed over them in a steady, relaxing stream, and Jake and Tom stood there for a moment, savouring the warmth that seeped into their skin with a sigh. After a while, Jake leaned forward and brushed his beard over the crook of Tom’s neck, and the brunet shivered pleasantly as he let Jake move him forward until his chest was pressed to steadily warming tiles. 

“In the meantime…”

“Make me feel it in the gym later,” Tom said, wiggling his hips against Jake’s hold as the man began to kiss down the length of his spine. The younger man shivered pleasantly as Jake sunk down to his knees. ”I want to feel that beard burn while we work out.”

Jake grinned into that sexy—oh so _fucking sexy—_ dip in the small of Tom’s back, kissing dimples there with a gentle flick of his tongue, and Tom gasped into the tiles of his shower stall. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He drawled. “You’re lucky I like marking you up, you demanding little brat.” He chuckled, and Tom laughed breathlessly against his arms as he rested on them. “I’m gonna make this absolutely _insufferable._ ”

“You can try,” Tom shot back, and then all his bravado dissolved into a long, breathy moan. 

* * *

Jake was right, in the end, because _of course he would be._ Tom scratched at his thighs self consciously as Jake logged them into the gym’s system, pleasantly greeting the young woman there who looked at him and Tom with stars in her eyes. They acquiesced to a selfie with her, Tom flashing the camera with a cute little grin that betrayed nothing of what he was feeling below the belt, but as they took the picture, Jake surreptitiously groped him, making his breath hitch in his throat, and the scratchy, deliciously rough, tender feeling on his ass and thighs flared anew. 

Tom shot Jake a sharp look after the picture was over, and the man only gave him a cheeky grin, jerking his head at Tom for him to follow after. The younger man grumbled, but followed suit, and soon he and Jake were in a mercifully private changing room, the both of them giving waves to people who had followed them there like a watered-down version of the paparazzi that would chase them around outside.

Eventually, they were left alone when Jake shut the door behind him, and the two of them sighed simultaneously, Tom sinking against the wall while Jake dropped himself on the bench between the lockers. They stopped, and looked at each other, before bursting out laughing, Jake shaking his head as Tom sank further to the ground, snickering into his hand.

He cut himself off abruptly, though, when his ass landed on the ground, and a jolt of pain and pleasure shot up his spine as the reminder of that morning’s sex escapade in Jake’s shower made itself known again. Tom let out an undignified little squeak of alarm as he jolted upright, and Jake’s grin widened as Tom stood on his knees, glowering at the older man with his cheeks on fire. 

“You bastard, you absolute bastard.” Tom hissed, as Jake began to laugh, his shoulders shaking with mirth as Tom wiggled uncomfortably out of his pants, “I can’t believe it got this bad.”

“You asked for it!” Jake shot back, wiping a tear from his eye, but he fell quiet when Tom slid his jeans off, showing Jake the damage he’d caused on his legs that morning. 

Fine red lines cross hatched along the inside Tom’s thighs, decorating his skin flushed a lovely reddish colour like the flush high on Tom’s cheeks. There were little love bites that marked a breadcrumb trail up Tom’s thighs to his crotch, disappearing under his underwear, but Jake didn’t need to see to know where he’d put the rest. 

He whistled lowly as Tom pouted at him, and turned around to let him see the other side. Jake’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of a mild bruise right underneath the swell of Tom’s ass, and the brunet looked back at him, grinning slightly. 

“Admiring your work?” 

“Yeah,” Jake admitted, “ _Damn._ ”

“Yeah, well, this is going to be a _bitch_ when we work out.” Tom replied, and Jake’s grin widened.

“Like I said, you did ask for it.” 

Tom rolled his eyes. “I was trying to talk dirty.” He said petulantly, and the older man laughed again as he got to getting dressed. “Oh, whatever. Get dressed, asshole.”

“Y-yeah, just a sec.” Jake laughed into his fist, and Tom couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him like that.

God, it always felt so good to make Jake laugh like that—to have the laugh lines form around his eyes, to have his lips curl up into that wonderful smile that Tom couldn’t help but mirror himself. The older man’s eyes twinkled something beautiful when he laughed, and Tom could just sit and stare there all day—but he really shouldn’t. 

Jake had made it clear, back in Venice, over breakfast. 

_“Friends with benefits.”_ He’d said, as Tom chewed on the toast of his eggs Benedict, and their eyes had met there with a disparity that Tom could _feel_ just in the way Jake looked at him. 

They were never going to meet on the same footing. Tom was in love with Jake, and Jake—well, he supposed he was just being friendly. Single, handsome and down to mingle without commitments, Tom could understand that Jake was probably not looking for a relationship. 

He hoped that Zendaya and Jacob could understand that Tom was young and foolish enough to go chasing this chance anyway, desperate as he was for affection and attention that his two friends wouldn’t be able to give him. 

So he was _fine._ This was fine, everything was _fine,_ and when the press junkets ended weeks from now, he would be able to handle it, he’s a big boy enough to weather through nights of sobbing into ice cream tubs—hell, that might even be _fun,_ right? 

(And hey, when things _did_ go south, at least Tom would be able to force Zendaya and Jacob to watch _Love Island_ with him and Harrison while he cried his eyes out, that was always fun.) 

Warm and cold to the pit of his stomach, Tom distracted himself from his thoughts with getting into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, hoping they were loose enough to not rub against his Jake-induced beard burn, but not too loose that he couldn’t distract Jake while they were working out.

He didn’t have to worry too much, but don’t tell him that—Jake was already staring, anyway.

(What could he say? Tom looked good in anything, the kid could put on a sack of potatoes, and Jake will still find him gorgeous, and Jake was kind of losing his mind thinking about the implication of that thought as he and Tom stepped out of the changing room to hit the training mats.)

Abdominal exercises, leg exercises—that was familiar, at least. Tom and Jake settled down together in a routine that was almost normal, Tom could almost forget the beard burn on his legs for a hot minute before they _fucking flared up again_ when Jake sometimes gave him a none-too-surreptitious pat on the ass or thighs. Tom glowered at Jake as they worked out, and the man gave him a knowing grin as they slowed down, Tom dropping to the mat with a tired sigh as he panted lightly, cheeks flushed in exertion and embarrassment.

The older man took a long swig of water, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Tom watched him move, trying not to stare at the way Jake’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He was absolutely _not_ staring at the way sweat rolled down Jake’s arms and temple, and neck, and—

“Tom,” Jake repeated, and Tom blinked when the man pressed his bottle to Tom’s forehead. The younger man shook his head, sitting up and grabbing his own bottle of water to take a swig to hide his embarrassment. “Hello, you awake?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Tom replied, and Jake raised an eyebrow at him, grinning wider. The brunet waved him off dismissively. “What was that, sorry?”

“Do you, uh, wanna hop on the treadmill and warm up?” He asked, cocking his head as he offered his hand to Tom to grab, and the younger man gaped up at him. 

“ _Warm up?_ ” He echoed, and jumped in surprise when he realised he’d raised his voice. He looked around to see that no one else really was paying attention, and he turned back to look at Jake, who was laughing behind his hand. “I’m roasting, mate, I’m finished!”

“Okay, fine, I’ll probably go do a quick mile.” He replied, patting Tom heavily on the shoulder, and the younger man looked indignant at the patronising grin Jake gave him. “Get some rest, Princess.”

Oh, that _fucker._

Tom grabbed his wrist and squeezed it _hard,_ but Jake didn’t seem to mind, and only then did Tom realise that that had been Jake’s plan all along. 

God, he loved this man so much.

“A mile? Are we pressed for time?” He bit out, and Jake’s grin widened. “Come on, let’s do two.”

“That’s my Tom.” Jake hummed, and turned his hand to grab Tom by the wrist, pulling him up to his feet, and yeah, it was time for every single one of Tom’s brain cells to jump out the window at the sound of that. 

_His_ Tom, _wow._ God, Tom sure fucking _wished_ he was.

Jake led him towards the treadmills as Tom felt the equivalent of a dial-up modem reverberating through his head, and it wasn’t until Tom started feeling the stitch in his side did he decide that this decision, overall, was a massive mistake. 

Oh, god, oh god, oh _dear fucking god_ this was a mistake. The regret loomed over Tom’s head as he felt himself basically dying slowly in his place. It wasn’t like he could slow down running—there was just no damn way he would run slower than fucking _Jake Gyllenhaal—_ but holy _fuck_ he wished his stupid mouth didn’t suggest the two damn _miles_ that he now had to commit to. 

It didn’t fucking _help_ that Tom could feel not only his muscles screaming, but his fucking _battlescars_ screaming. From The Gyllenhaal War—no, _The Gyllenwar,_ he was going to call it, at this rate, because with every move of his legs, his thighs and ass let him remember the beard burn there, the bruises that Jake left on him that morning, and Tom was absolutely sure that that was good enough to qualify as a legitimate war on his skin, and self-control.

(Thank _fuck_ they were done with shooting. He wasn’t sure if he could take the teasing they got, not right now, anyway. _Jesus.)_

God, he wished everything was over. He wished that they could just stop running on the treadmills, god, Tom would a hundred percent jump on Jake’s dick and ride it until the man screamed if it meant they could _stop killing him on the stupid treadmills—_

“Hang in there, sweetheart.” Jake laughed, though he was panting lightly. Sure, it was nothing like the ragged dog panting Tom was doing, halfway dead with a screaming, aching body, but the man at least seemed to start feeling tired. 

Man, _fuck_ Jake Gyllenhaal.

Tom choked back his breath, and glared ahead of him, grabbing his bottle of water to squirt some into his mouth, uncaring if some spilled down his shirt—

Jake tripped mid-run, choking slightly, and Tom was too pissed off and too exhausted to care.

There was absolutely _nothing_ that would get him off that _fucking_ treadmill. 

He _will_ beat Jake Gyllenhaal in this race. 

A few minutes passed by, Tom resolutely ignoring Jake as the man went eerily quiet, deep in thought. It didn’t take long for Jake to speak again, though, and he turned to look at Tom with a little grin on his face.

“Hey, Tom, this is too easy.” He said, and Tom’s head whipped around to stare at him, wide-eyed. “Let’s up the incline.”

 _Fuck you,_ Tom thought, and said, “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing, let’s do it.”

He sounded winded, ready to fucking _pass out_ from the lack of air, but he and Jake both knew he wasn’t really _that_ far gone, and Tom trusted Jake enough to really call this stupid game off when he knew that Tom was really in danger. 

They raised the inclines on their treadmills, and Tom just wanted to _die._

Normally, he wouldn’t over extend himself—he probably was nearly getting there, but Jake was peering at him every now and then, and by now, Tom was sure that it was more out of concern for him than anything else.

(It was, and then some. Jake will keep that information to himself until he finds himself on a rooftop lit up with paper lanterns, a bouquet of flowers in his arms, and the sound of Tom’s laughter as the wind blew around them like a blessing. But that will take some time, and a lot of patience. Someday, Tom will find out, but for now, it’s a secret Jake will keep close to his heart.)

A few more kilometres, and Tom felt like he definitely had blisters where Jake left marks on him. (He didn’t.) God, this was _torture,_ but for some reason, he was into it. 

Fuck, he knew he was just pulling shit out of his ass as Jake ate him out that morning, but _holy fuck_ maybe the random stuff you end up saying while you were having sex was the most honest things you could admit to anyone. 

He was _not_ going to walk properly after this, he knew. 

Jake opened his mouth to say something, when the gym’s playlist started the next song, and nearly doubled over laughing.

Ariana Grande’s _Side to Side_ played over the speakers, and Tom resisted the urge to kick him.

“Hey, Tom.” Jake said, and Tom winced as he looked over at the man, seeing him leering at Tom with that knowing grin on his face. “This is too easy, let’s up it to 3.”

 _I’ll kill you,_ Tom mouthed at him, and Jake laughed out loud and carefree, and for a moment Tom’s annoyance dissipated somewhat. God, Jake was so _happy._ Tom could watch him all day like that, but maybe not while they were both running distractedly on a treadmill.

Tom did _not_ want to break his nose again.

“Oh, my god,” oh, _fuck,_ his lungs were giving out. “Fine, yeah, Jake, sure.”

Again with the upped incline, the increased need to die. Maybe this was what Jacob meant when millennials really liked memes about dying. Maybe this was it, maybe he finally really felt his age, and god, the thoughts running through his mind were off the damn rails—

He’d never be able to tell Jake he liked him, oh, would Jake even like him back, what if he—

“Hey, let’s do 3.5.” Jake suddenly said, and Tom jerked violently, looking down at the screen on his treadmill to realise they had a little over a kilometre left. His eyes widened slightly, and he lit up hopefully. 

He could _do this._ He was _so close._

“Jake, dude,” He panted, and Jake blinked at him. “Let’s do 4.”

This was going to _kill him,_ but it was _worth it_ when Jake gaped at him, wide-eyed in that hilariously endearing way that made them look like they were right about to pop out, and Tom reached out to raise Jake’s incline himself, before he did the same to his own treadmill. 

_It would have been more merciful if you just killed us,_ cried Tom’s legs. 

_Jake Gyllenhaal, be grateful I love you so much,_ cried Tom’s head. Or heart. Whichever you prefer that was less cringeworthy or embarrassing. 

Why stop there, after all? 

The last kilometre was spent in intense concentration, and when they finally slowed down, Tom couldn’t feel his legs. He was still pretty steady as they got off the treadmills, and Jake patted his shoulder, laughing breathlessly before he patted Tom’s cheek the way Beck patted Peter’s in Prague. 

(Ooh, Prague. Another interesting story for another time. Prague was _extremely fun,_ if Jake and Tom had anything to say about it. Method acting, was that what they called it these days?)

“Let’s go home.” He said, and Tom forgot about wanting to wring the guy’s neck immediately. 

Home. Together. His cheeks turned pinker than they already were, suddenly warm and overcome with emotion, but Jake didn’t seem to feel the same way—he probably didn’t even _register_ what he said in his head—and brushed past Tom gently to head back to their changing room. Tom blinked at him owlishly for a moment, watching his retreating back, before sighing dreamily, smiling helplessly into his hand. 

Home, together. God, it was going to be hard to say goodbye. 

* * *

Tom survived the shower he took after their workout, and the mini paparazzi session he and Jake had with the gym’s patrons. He also survived the walk to Jake’s car, and the trip back to his apartment, but as the man parked his car and stepped outside, Tom realised something rather quickly. 

Jake stopped a few metres away from his car after realising that no one was responding to what he was saying. He turned around and saw Tom looking at him pleadingly from inside his car, and Jake hurried to his side, trying not to laugh at the kicked puppy expression on Tom’s face as he opened the door for him. 

“You okay?” He asked, and Tom winced in pain. Immediately amusement fled from Jake’s mind, replaced with concern for him, and he knelt down to look Tom over. “Tom? What’s wrong?”

“I… can’t walk.” Tom replied sheepishly, and Jake blinked at him in confusion. “Legitimately, I can’t—uh, my legs died, I think.”

“What, _seriously?_ ” Jake breathed in disbelief, and Tom bit his lip, nodding. “Shit. Shouldn’t have teased you like that.”

“Yeah, I, uh. Shouldn’t have let myself get egged on by that.” Tom sighed. “God, my trainer would _kill_ me, I should’ve known better than to overextend myself. God, I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not.” Jake replied gently, and Tom blinked at him. “You’re competitive, and _I’m_ the one stupid enough to exploit that.”

“I don’t know, Jake,” Tom laughed, “You’ve never exploited me.” He paused when it was Jake’s turn to blink at him, and flushed. “Except on camera, I mean.” He tacked on. “Y’know. Because. Mysterio, and all that—” Tom shook his head, cheeks now scarlet with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry I’m like this, I…” He sighed. “God, I’m so fucking awkward.”

“Hey, that’s what I like about you.” Jake replied, and Tom jumped when the man cupped his cheek in his hand gently. They stayed still for a long moment, Tom’s heart racing at the sensation of Jake’s hand on him, and he resisted the urge to lean into his touch. 

God, if he moved, he might break the illusion. 

Wow. Even here, Jake could cast illusions on him just like Mysterio could. The man was born for the role, and it made something ache sweetly in Tom’s chest. 

Like this, Tom could understand why Peter fell for everything Beck had to offer so hard and fast, with the way Jake looked at him then, and the man shook his head fondly, finally pulling his hand away. 

When the cool air hit Tom’s cheek, only then did he think he could breathe, and he panted softly as Jake got up to stand up straight and look around. The younger man pressed a hand to his chest, leaning back against his seat’s backrest, and took a moment to breathe. 

God, did Jake know what he was doing? He had to, right? He’s had lovers before, he knows what to do to charm them—this—well, Tom never really had long-lasting relationships, and he was no expert on the matter, but he was pretty damn sure that’s how you hold someone you love, right?

He remembered back on the Tower Bridge when he and Zendaya kissed for the first time. She had an iron grip on his hair and he was trying not to laugh in her face. God, that had been awkward _and_ hilarious, and when they managed a cute little triplet of kisses, they completely lost their shit when Watts cut the footage. 

“Where’d the guy who makes out with Jake Gyllenhaal on a regular basis go?” Zendaya had laughed into his shoulder as they hugged, and Tom hugged her back, blowing a raspberry into her cheek. 

“You’re not exactly Jake Gyllenhaal.” Tom shot back, and Zendaya had kicked him, snickering as they pulled apart. 

The awkward triplet kiss stayed in the final cut. It was cute, and suited Peter and MJ very well, but Zendaya had some Choice words about how well Tom kissed. Jake got a word in edgewise that evening, and that earned them hoots and cheers from their little table. 

And then the dance off between Zendaya and Jake, after that. That was wild.

And for another time, when Tom snapped out of his daze to realise that Jake had knelt back down again, sliding his arm underneath Tom’s knees and the other behind Tom’s back. The younger man jumped, and he squirmed in alarm as Jake easily picked him up—though not without bumping Tom’s head against the doorway on the way out. 

“Whoops, sorry.” Jake said, carefully manoeuvring Tom out of his car, and when he straightened up, he grinned down at Tom. “Comfy?”

“Wh-what the—Jake, wait—” Tom stammered, but the man shrugged noncommittally. 

“You carry our stuff, I’ll carry you.” He said easily. “Between the two of us, I’m the one better at cardio anyway.” Jake gave Tom a wink, and Tom’s heart fucking _stuttered_ like the god damn smitten fool he is. “I’ll bend down and you grab our bag handles, okay?”

“O-okay.” Tom nodded awkwardly, and Jake bent down to let him reach them. He held on to them tightly as Jake carried him to his door—surprising Tom when he realised it was open—and through the threshold. He shut the door behind them with his foot, sighing fondly as he strode easily through his apartment, like carrying Tom (and their bags, _holy shit)_ around was nothing new. God, it felt _nice,_ he had to admit it. Being carried around by Jake—being _manhandled_ by Jake—had a certain appeal to it, and it didn’t help that Jake was much bigger than Tom was. The man could dwarf him pretty easily, pin him down with ease, and it’d already been proven time and time again that Jake could easily carry Tom around everywhere. 

Hell, he’d given carrying Zendaya around a go at some point during their shooting, and Tom still had that photo of her perched on Jake’s shoulders, laughing brightly. She had grabbed one of her trench coats she had with her on set that day, and she and Jake had pranced around on set during breaks pretending to be one giant person in a trench coat. Jacob had the video on his phone—Tom was too busy laughing at them—and airdropped it to Tom later that day. 

(To that day, Tom treasures that video clip. Two of his favourite people in the world, having the time of their lives. Someday, after all this is over, Tom hoped that he could be able to watch that without feeling the need to burst into tears.)

Tom was almost glad he was carrying their bags. If he had his arms around the back of Jake’s neck, the illusion would have been nearly complete. 

_(Stop thinking about the threshold carry. Stop thinking about the threshold carry, this is_ **_his_ ** _house, not yours_ **_and_ ** _his. Stop thinking about rings, about late night slow dancing on rooftops and laughter bubbling in champagne flutes.)_

“You can dump our stuff right here.” Jake said, and Tom felt like crying. God, fuck his stupid brain. 

He let go of their bags when Jake bent down low enough for him to set them down, and when his arms came free, he wrapped them around the back of Jake’s neck to pull him into a kiss. The older man jumped slightly, but he smiled against Tom’s lips as he held the younger man closer, kissing him back. When they parted for air, Jake raised an eyebrow at Tom, grinning slightly as Tom looked back at him pleadingly. 

“You know, if I knew you were into getting carried before, I wouldn’t say no to carrying you around everywhere while we were on set.” He said warmly, and Tom batted at his arm lightly. 

“Shut up, that’s not what I meant.” Tom said, and Jake cocked his head at him. 

“Then what did you mean?” He asked, but he kissed Tom again anyway, easily making his way through his apartment. Tom kissed him back, his hands coming up to tangle in Jake’s hair to pull him closer. They pulled apart when Jake set Tom down on his bed, and the older man moved forward to straddle him, smiling down at him gently. 

“I—” Tom panted softly, and for a moment he couldn’t come up with the words to speak. Not when Jake was looking down at him like _that_ —like Tom was the focal point of his world, eyes soft like Tom was the most wonderful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. The shadows that crossed Jake’s face as he leaned over Tom only made his eyes shine brighter, and Tom’s heart got caught in his throat as he choked up slightly. 

“Hey,” Jake said gently, and kissed his forehead. “It’s gonna be okay. Your muscles are just sore, you haven’t pulled anything, you’re gonna be fine.”

God, it was like as if Jake had some bullshit Spidey sense that let him know if Tom wasn’t feeling alright. They were so attuned to each other, so ridiculously in-sync, that sometimes their co-stars commented about how well they suited each other. 

Right now, though… 

Tom wanted to hit him for being so sweet and reassuring. 

Tom _also_ wanted to kiss him for being so sweet and reassuring. 

Was it weird for him to be this worked up about how much he liked Jake? God, was their press junket style of being all lovey-dovey getting too much? Did he _actually_ believe it when Jake said he loved Tom? That he adored him the same way Tom did both on and off set, in and out of bed?

They didn’t have to be like this, away from prying eyes. Jake didn’t have to be this sweet to him—or was he always like this to his friends? Friends with benefits?

_(He should FaceTime Robert, soon. Robert used to work with Jake—he would know what to do. What to say.)_

God, Tom wasn’t sure if he could take much of this anymore. 

Maybe he _wasn’t_ as ready for this as he thought he was. 

“Thanks.” Tom muttered, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look into Jake’s beautiful, kind blue eyes. “Thank you. For helping me.”

“It’s no big deal.” Jake said softly, and dropped himself down on the bed next to Tom with a sigh. “We’ve got a few hours to kill before press. What do you wanna do?”

Tom turned around in place—well, turned just his torso around in place, wincing at his protesting legs, and Jake reached down to help him turn the rest of the way, pulling Tom close to himself by his thighs as the younger man rested his hands on Jake’s chest. 

“Wanna fool around again?” Jake asked, stroking Tom’s thigh absently with his thumb, and Tom could only just barely feel the twinge of his Jake-induced bruises under the ache of his muscles. 

“I thought you said you weren’t insatiable like me,” Tom replied, but leaned forward to kiss him anyway, swallowing the man’s laugh between their lips. Jake smiled into their kiss and pulled Tom even closer, pressing their bodies flush against each other, and when they pulled apart, he looked right into the younger man’s eyes, warm and affectionate. 

Tom couldn’t bring himself to look away. God, he’ll never forget the way Jake looked at him, like as if Jake felt the same way he did. 

“Yeah, well, I gotta admit I was thinking about fooling around with you while we were in the shower back at the gym, but I was a little worried about your legs.” He replied, kissing Tom’s nose. “Guess I was right to wait until we got back home.”

 _Until_ ** _we_** _got back_ ** _home._** There it was again. God, this was so stupidly _domestic._

“That’s really sweet of you.” Tom said quietly, and Jake shrugged. 

“Hey, you looked out for me, I look out for you.” He replied. “How about you? Got anything to admit?”

Tom paused. 

I love you, he wanted to say. I really do love you. I wish we were more than friends. 

I wish we could live and be happy together. 

I wish we could see eye to eye. 

I love you, Jake Gyllenhaal, more than words could possibly say. More than friends should. 

“I like it when you carry me around.” He said instead, and Jake grinned slightly. “It’s kinda… nice. I like the feeling of your hands on me.”

“Yeah, I’d say.” Jake chuckled, rolling over to straddle Tom again, and the younger man sighed softly, leaning back into the pillows. 

Now, see here—the horny shit, _that_ was familiar. That was mutual, at least. Tom should really stop focusing on the stuff that _wasn’t_ mutual, like, y’know, his stupid embarrassing _Feelings._

“I want you to manhandle me, daddy.” He said quietly, peering up at Jake pleadingly, and the man shuddered on top of him, grinding his growing erection against Tom’s crotch. Tom flinched, twitching helplessly in pleasure as pain and desire shot up from his thighs in a sweet, heady mix, and he grabbed Jake by the lapels of his shirt into a rough kiss. Jake immediately took the lead after that, plundering Tom’s mouth with his tongue as he began to rut their growing erections together, grabbing hold of Tom’s thighs to splay them open. 

Tom moaned, feeling the sharp pain of aching muscles, stinging beard burn marks and bruises mix with the pleasing sensation of Jake manhandling him like a doll, and the thought of the older man just using his body to chase his own pleasure sent a rippling shudder through Tom’s spine. He choked on air as Jake moved down from his mouth to trail butterfly kisses down the column of his neck, his hands shooting up to tangle in Jake’s hair as the other man ran his hands up Tom’s thighs in a maddening, pain-pleasure way that had Tom’s toes curling. 

“God, when I saw you in that workout outfit I was ready to just call it quits and fuck you in the shower,” Jake mumbled into his throat, and Tom gasped as the man cupped his crotch, rubbing his palm over Tom’s erection. “But god, the idea of watching that cute little ass work, knowing it’s all marked up by me… that was even better.” His other hand came up to hold Tom by the side of his neck to ground him, feeling the way his pulse fluttered under his touch. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Tom panted, “You worked me really hard, daddy. You better take care of me after all that.”

“Yeah, I gotcha, sweetheart.” Jake laughed, and he lifted his head to meet Tom’s gaze. “Does my pillow princess need a cute little—fuck off, Holland!” He burst out laughing when Tom sat up to blow a raspberry into the hollow of his throat, and the both of them dissolved into laughter. Tom dropped back onto the bed in a fit of giggles as Jake shook his head, throwing his shirt off, and Tom fell quiet at the sight of him shirtless. 

God, Jake was so god damn _hot._ It wasn’t _fair._

“Liking the gun show?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at Tom, a confident grin on his face, and Tom rolled his eyes. “Aw, c’mon, I know you like it.” He teased, and leaned down to kiss Tom slowly again, reaching down to undo the fly of Tom’s tailored pants. Tom reached down to help himself with Jake’s jeans as they made out, and when they parted for air, Jake reached up to stroke Tom’s hair. 

“Green, yellow, red, got it?” He asked, and Tom nodded. 

“Green, yellow, red.” He echoed obediently. 

“And the safeword?”

“Quackson.”

Jake snorted, and Tom batted at his arm lightly. 

“Y-yeah, okay. Good job, baby.” He chuckled, and gave Tom a chaste little kiss. “It’s gonna hurt.”

“I’m sure you have painkillers around, then.” Tom murmured against Jake’s lips, and pointedly pulled at Jake’s pants. “Now, _off._ ”

Jake rolled his eyes, but his expression was fond, moving back to help Tom pull them off alongside his underwear. He moved on to pull Tom’s trousers and underwear off, too, and Tom helped him halfway by throwing off his own shirt while Jake got stuck taking Tom’s shoes off. 

When they were both naked, Jake climbed back onto the bed and whistled at the sight of Tom spread out on it. His hands were up by his head on the pillow, and his legs were right where Jake left them, slightly parted and flushed a lovely red. The beard burn marks were still there, the bruises, too—and now, Jake knew, Tom wasn’t able to move them, either. They were limp like a doll’s, free for Jake to move as he wished, and he wasted no time lifting Tom’s legs up by the back of his knees, relishing the way Tom winced at the protesting of his aching muscles. 

He lifted Tom’s legs until only the younger man’s shoulders and head were resting on the bed, and Tom looked up at him with eyes wide in anticipation. His erection bobbed between them, perky, pink and already leaking, and his lip was caught between his teeth. 

“Now _this_ is a view.” Jake grinned, and kissed the inside of Tom’s knee. “Look at you. You’re like a doll, laid out just like that for me to play with.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Tom panted, and Jake tutted, shaking his head as he pinched Tom’s ass, earning him a gasp from the brunet under him. “ _Jake!_ ”

“Dolls only say ‘yes, Jake’, and ‘please, Jake’.” He said pleasantly, hooking Tom’s legs over his shoulders as he settled down between them, kneeling on the bed. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Tom winced, took a hard gulp of air, and nodded. “Yes, Jake.”

“Good doll.” The man hummed, spreading Tom’s legs wider to grin down at the younger man’s dusky entrance, fluttering slightly at how _exposed_ he was. “Look at you. So pretty.” He said, and leaned down to press a delicate little kiss to the base of Tom’s cock. 

The younger man gasped, throwing his head back against the pillows as his hands fisted in them beside his head. He could feel the scratch of Jake’s beard against the delicate skin of his balls, twitching helplessly as the sensation was amplified by the beard burn marks already there from that morning, and the helplessness that Tom felt, held up so high and so _exposed_ like this. Jake hummed, his lips pressed against the heated skin of Tom’s erection, and gave his cock a long, languorous lick up to the weeping tip, licking up a line of precum that had rolled down from the cockhead. His hands—so _big, so strong so warm—_ squeezed Tom’s thighs, aggravating their soreness from their workout, the damage he’d dealt on them that morning, and Tom moaned, his muscles clenching in reflex only to unclench as pain jolted through them. 

Oh, _fuck._ It _hurt,_ but god did it hurt _so good._

Jake got to work on sucking Tom off, squeezing and flexing Tom’s legs every now and then as he relished the sound of the younger man’s moans and gasps, the helpless little twitches his hips made trying to find purchase to rut into the wet warmth of Jake’s mouth. He couldn’t move, though—not when he was being held at such an uncomfortably high position. All Tom could do was lie there and take it, just like the doll Jake wanted him to be. 

Still, Tom could feel his orgasm building, the knot in his stomach growing as his heartbeat began to rabbit out of his chest. His breaths stuttered as his hands struggled to stay still in their iron grip in the pillows. 

“Please, Jake—oh, please, Jake—”

“Hmm?” The man hummed around Tom’s cock, and Tom whined, feeling the sensation shoot right up his spine as Jake fondled his aching thighs again. 

“ _Please, Jake!_ ” Tom squirmed in Jake’s grip, and the man pulled off Tom’s cock, grinning down at him. 

“Do you wanna cum, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Jake.” Tom panted, “Please, Jake.”

The man hummed, making a show of thinking about it. 

“Will you get it up for me again if I let you?”

“I—” Tom hesitated, “Yes, Ja—” he winced, and shook his head. “Yellow. Yellow.”

Jake nodded, and set him down gently, careful not to jostle his legs too much. Tom sighed, looking down to realise Jake was completely hard, too, and something in his chest ached. 

“S-sorry, nevermind, yeah, I—”

“Hey.” Jake said, gently stroking Tom’s hair, and this time, Tom did lean into the touch, trying not to think too much of the way Jake smiled at him because of it. “It’s okay, jeez. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Y-yeah. Right.” Tom took a shaky breath. “I dunno—I don’t know if I can get hard again. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Jake nodded. “Okay, let’s just skip right to the main event, shall we?”

Tom nodded, and Jake stood up to grab the bottle of lube they’d been using from the nightstand. He casually dribbled it over his fingers, but as he made a move to reach for Tom, the younger man shook his head. 

“Jake, um.” Tom said awkwardly, and the man blinked at him. “Legs up? Please?”

Jake grinned slowly at that, and pressed a kiss to Tom’s temple. 

“Gotcha.” He said, “Just lemme know if you wanna slow down again, okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Tom nodded, and Jake picked up Tom’s legs, hooking them over his shoulders again. Tom shivered as the helplessness seeped back into him, his hands shooting down to fist in the bed sheets as Jake spread his cheeks open with his dry hand. 

He whistled. “The sight never gets old.” He said fondly, and slipped his first slick finger into Tom. 

Whatever retort Tom has for that flew out of his head when he felt Jake’s finger breaching him, his eyes growing wide as he moaned loudly, hands clenching knuckle-white in Jake’s bedsheets. His body lit up anew, the embarrassment and trepidation from before now mercifully gone as Jake fucked him slowly with one, two, three scissoring fingers. 

It didn’t take long for him to open up, they’d been having sex since that morning, and when Tom was ready, Jake pulled away to kneel properly, looking down at Tom intently as he slicked himself up. 

“You ready?” He asked, panting softly, and Tom nodded, before he remembered he had to use his words. 

“Yes, Jake.” He replied, willing and pliant as a doll as Jake adjusted Tom as he liked, spreading his arms at either side of him to keep them away from his body. He spread Tom’s legs as wide as they would go, lifting them high with firm hands clamped down right where it hurt, and Tom gasped, turning his head into the pillow as Jake pressed his cock against Tom’s entrance. 

“Look at you.” Jake breathed, and squeezed Tom’s thighs again as he rubbed the head of his cock against Tom’s ass. He relished the way Tom jerked in response, flinching as his eyes glazed over in helpless pleasure, and he grinned. “Does it hurt, baby?”

“Y-yes, Jake.” Tom choked out, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the sensation of pain and pleasure wash over him. 

Jake rutted against Tom’s entrance, teasingly slipping the head of his cock inside as he lifted Tom higher, stopping him from jerking his thighs to push the rest of Jake’s cock inside him, and Tom let out a frustrated groan. 

“Please, Jake. Please.” Tom whined.

“Okay, okay, since you asked so nicely.” He said, and winced as he pressed into Tom, letting out a low groan of relief as he finally felt the rest of Tom’s tight, wet heat around him. The brunet threw his head back against the pillow, gasping like as if Jake pushing into him pushed all the air out of his lungs, and his toes curled as his body tensed up. “Shit, Tom, you gotta relax.”

Tom took shallow, rapid breaths, shutting his eyes as he tried to relax, and he whined, a high keening sound at the back of his throat, as Jake slid home. The both of them let out twin exhales as Jake shuddered, holding still to let Tom adjust. The brunet panted heavily, looking up at the ceiling as he felt himself twitching in Jake’s hold, and it didn’t take long for him to start trying to fuck his hips back against Jake’s cock, whining softly. 

“Please, Jake.” Tom pleaded breathlessly, and the older man nodded, pulling out of Tom until only the top of his cock was inside. “Yes, Jake, _please—_ ”

Jake pulled Tom’s legs wider apart with an iron grip on his thighs, and Tom _screamed_ as he felt pain and pleasure positively _sing_ in delicious harmony as Jake thrust back into him with a vicious snap of his hips. The pace was brutal, after that, and Tom could only lie there and take it, drowning in the delicious, heady mix of pain and pleasure as Jake fucked into him hard, leaving new bruises on top of old ones, aggravating aching, screaming muscles that cried out for mercy and positively begged for more.

 _God,_ Tom hoped he would get a relationship like this after he and Jake separate. 

He could feel his orgasm building, coaxed by the growing burning pain and pleasure in his thighs, on his bouncing cock, his abused hole as Jake slid in and out of him, hitting his prostate in irregular intervals that could’ve have been happy little accidents if Tom didn’t already know that Jake knew his body from the inside out. It felt so _damn good—_ he almost didn’t want it to end, but his body grew taut, his breaths growing shorter and more desperate as his arms uselessly scrambled for purchase he would never get on the sheets. 

“Jake—Jake, please—yes, Jake— _please!_ ”

The man grunted, out of breath more than in the gym earlier, and he reached down to roughly jerk Tom off. The brunet cried out as his orgasm hit him _hard,_ his cum spilling white over his chest. Jake wasn’t far behind him, groaning deeply as he buried himself deep in Tom before he came, too, and Tom squirmed at the sensation of hot wetness inside him. Jake gently let Tom down onto the bed, slowly pulling out of him before he headed into the bathroom for some washcloths. Tom watched him go, blinking sleepily as Jake worked, and when the man had cleaned them both up, he tossed the soiled towels off the bed and climbed in next to Tom, grumbling.

Tom laughed softly, and kissed Jake’s forehead to soothe him, feeling his sigh more than hearing it as Jake pulled him close like he was a beloved pillow. God, Tom didn’t know if he was glad that Jake was a cuddler after sex. He certainly enjoyed it, though.

“How much longer until press?” Jake mumbled into Tom’s neck, and the younger man peered over at the bedside table, where their phones sat together innocuously after Jake dug them out of their bags as he cleaned Tom up. 

“No idea, let me see my phone.” Tom replied, and Jake grumbled.

“Hey Siri, how long until my next appointment?” He said out loud, right into Tom’s ear, and the younger man spluttered as Jake laughed sleepily, ignoring his protests as he listened out for that little _‘ding-ding’_ of his iPhone ringing. 

_“You have two hours and forty-two minutes to your next appointment.”_ His virtual assistant replied, and Jake huffed.

“Good enough for me!” He declared, and held Tom down in a rather vicious hug. “We’re waking up in an hour. Go to sleep, Tom!”

Tom laughed softly, but did as he was told, cuddling close to Jake to fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Oh, what he’d give to live every day like this. To fall asleep to the sound of Jake’s heartbeat, to wake up to the man’s smile, the feeling of his arms around him. 

* * *

Press was hell, but that was because of Tom’s current predicament, more than anything. When their interview finished, Jake gave Tom a look of mild concern as he got up to meet the journalist halfway to shake her hand. She looked at Tom, who hadn’t moved a muscle, and she cocked her head at him.

“Are you okay?” She asked, and Tom laughed nervously, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat, shrugging as casually as he could muster. 

“Well, I, uh…” He looked at Jake, who looked at him apologetically, and he couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “I do all of my own stunts.”

Jake burst out laughing at that, and it was so _worth it._ Making Jake laugh was always a win in his books. Confusing the hell out of journalists—well, that was a close second.

Someday, he’ll sort this stupid _crush_ out, Tom thought, as Jake tried to explain himself past his raucous laughter. For now, maybe he could be content with this. 

He had to be.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're here for my beckpeter stuff you should've already seen this, but from now on i'm going to put this as like a signature of sorts. i've had enough
>
>> fellow writers, does it piss you off when people just comment stuff asking for a next chapter/fic without saying anything else constructive about the fic? genuinely curious.
>> 
>> — 🔮 bukkun, MSc 🕷 mr beck love mail 🔮 (@trickscd) [11 July 2019](https://twitter.com/trickscd/status/1149322058376962049?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw)
> 
> [beck voice] never ask me for anything ever again.


End file.
